Chapter 11
"Song Zhao, what do you think of these chrysanthemums?" Xue Yi asked.
He held a bouquet of auspicious clouds in his palm. The white stamens of the chrysanthemums drooped down, and the silk was as fine as pearls. Three or five white hydrangeas were clustered together and imprinted on his black-patterned cuffs, pure white and holy.
Song Zhao replied, "If His Majesty likes it, then that is of course excellent."
Xue Yi stroked the petals, "The Ruiyun Palace has the same temperament as him. It's just a pity that he didn't like it, always thinking that this thing was unlucky."
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and people's tastes are always changing. When I was young, I liked orchids, but now I find them extremely gaudy," Song Zhao said.
Upon hearing this, Xue Yi looked at Song Zhao and said, "You don't need to comfort me. Tell me how your investigation is going."
“The day before yesterday… I went to the Shangjing Hall to search, and this case is probably unrelated to Lu Xuejin,” Song Zhao said.
"In that case, I am relieved." Xue Yi stroked the petals of the chrysanthemum, his small mole under his eye pressing down, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he pondered.
"..." Song Zhao said from the side, "Perhaps the murderer cannot be found. What should Your Majesty do?"
The carriage swayed and rattled towards the Prime Minister's residence, stopping at the gate. Xue Yi did not immediately answer Song Zhao's question. The servants guarding the gate saw him and habitually called out "Young Master." He smiled at the servants and hid the chrysanthemums behind his back.
"I came back to check if Changyou returned the day before yesterday?"
Servant: "Your Majesty, the young master returned the day before yesterday and should be awake now."
"You don't need to be so polite. I've come back to visit. When I see Changyou later, he'll naturally know I'm back," Xue Yi said.
The servant understood that he hadn't been informed, and said yes, leading Song Zhao into the mansion. Song Zhao followed behind him, pausing slightly as they entered.
Xue Yi asked, "What's wrong?"
“It’s nothing,” Song Zhao said. “I just remembered that it has been a year since I last accompanied His Majesty back to his residence.”
“Springtime waits for no one… Back to what we were talking about earlier, you asked me what to do,” Xue Yi said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “It would be a good thing if we couldn’t find out. Song Zhao, how do you think I treat you?”
When asked this question, Song Zhao replied without hesitation, "In public affairs, Your Majesty and I are ruler and minister; in private, we are close friends. I will do my utmost to serve Your Majesty."
"I know your sincerity; there is no greater loyalty than this. I am not made of wood or stone; my heart is clear. I can hear with my ears and see with my eyes... In this court, I can sense who is sincere to me and who is perfunctory. I suppose only a few people could have done this; it is a mystery that is difficult to solve. Their namelessness can become a sharp blade in our hands."
Xue Yi: "As for who this sharp blade is aimed at, I am still considering it."
Song Zhao bowed slightly: "Your subject understands."
The two stood one in front of the other, with Xue Yi in front, looking down at the chrysanthemum in his palm, a hint of pity in his eyes.
"I've been too busy lately and forgot my mother's death anniversary. Song Zhao... do you think he might be upset with me?" Xue Yi asked, stroking a chrysanthemum in his palm. He had loved white chrysanthemums the most when he was young. Lu Xuejin often said they were unlucky, but she still picked quite a few for him and colored them with vermilion.
“Lord Lu is kind-hearted,” Song Zhao said. “I don’t think he will blame His Majesty.”
Xue Yifang entered the room and saw people in the distance.
Not far away, Lu Xuejin returned with her entourage. This was the mansion where the two of them had grown up together, and he had never seen Lu Xuejin return with anyone before. He watched as Lu Xuejin took a cloak and draped it over the young man's shoulders. The emotions in the young man's eyes were too straightforward, emotions that he was very familiar with.
Like the chrysanthemums in his hand, they were too pure white and clean, always attracting covetous mosquitoes.
The young man remained completely oblivious. Every move the other person made disturbed his mind, and a silent ink dot landed on his heart, causing him a painful corrosive sensation, from which countless streams of ink surged forth.
"Song Zhao... do you think I shouldn't have spared his life back then?" Xue Yi asked, his voice devoid of emotion.
The bouquet of chrysanthemums was thrown on the ground.
Return to the palace that day.
Before leaving, Lu Xuejin bought the boy a lantern. The bright red one looked very festive. Seeing Murong Yue's tense face as he drew two ugly lotus flowers, Tengluo laughed heartily beside him. He and Ziyan didn't laugh, but their lips unconsciously curved into a smile. The lotus flowers drawn by the boy were very festive.
"I hope your mother rests in peace, and that you are happy every day," Murong Yue said to him.
But after calling him "brother" all day, it came out so naturally, and it felt light and airy in his ears, as if the dark clouds in his heart had been blown away.
His thoughts vanished when he returned to Fangze Palace. In front of Fangze Palace, Xue Yi watched him in the night, not knowing how long he had stood there.
In the darkness, Xue Yi, pale-faced and with a mole under his eye casting a shadow like a ghost, asked him, "You're back?"
"Brother?" He paused for a moment, thinking that Song Zhao must have sent a message. He said to Xue Yi, "Brother, you've come at the right time. I brought back some wontons. Let's eat them together."
His mother loved wontons when she was alive. After she passed away, his father would always take the two of them to the east of the city to buy a serving of his mother's favorite wontons on the anniversary of her death. This habit has been maintained to this day, and he brought back two servings of wontons before returning to the palace.
"..." Xue Yi quietly observed the person before him. This person possessed such ability. No matter how many emotions he was experiencing, this person could easily smooth out the wrinkles that arose.
Xue Yi: "I originally thought that once Changyou left the palace, he would forget me."
“In that case, I thought that once I left the palace, my brother would not remember me,” Lu Xuejin replied calmly. “My brother is busy with political affairs, and I am worried that I will take up your time.”
As he spoke, Lu Xuejin carefully took out the two portions of wontons. He had deliberately had them cooked slightly undercooked so they wouldn't stick together when they returned to the palace. He opened the lid of the container and looked inside. The plump wontons floated to the surface, emitting a fragrant aroma; they looked quite good.
He breathed a sigh of relief and picked out the intact portion for Xue Yi.
The person opposite him remained silent. Lu Xuejin noticed a gaze fixed on him, a gaze as sticky as autumn rain in summer, scrutinizing him from head to toe as if trying to pierce through him. He didn't know what Xue Yi was thinking. In the past, Xue Yi had always been sensitive, yet disliked confiding in others.
He thought for a moment and asked, "Is it because of matters concerning the court officials?"
The murders of the three court officials have yet to be solved, perhaps because of this incident. Aside from that, he doesn't think it's likely that Xue Yi was displeased by his departure from the palace.
"No, I don't think the affairs of the court are worth worrying about." Xue Yi said, then looked away and said, "I heard there's a lantern festival and temple fair on the street today. Didn't Changyou go and take a look?"
“Of course I looked. The streets were full of kids. When we were their age, we also liked to join in the fun. Now it doesn’t feel that novel,” Lu Xuejin replied.
He and Xue Yi ate their wontons slowly, as if they had returned to the old days. After he finished eating, Xue Yi naturally wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. He couldn't help but feel a little helpless; how long ago was that? The handkerchief brushed against his lips, and he pulled back slightly.
“Brother, I can do it myself.”
His lips brushed against Xue Yi's fingertips. Xue Yi's eyes were deep and unfathomable. After he finished speaking, Xue Yi did not stop. He then felt a force on his jaw and turned his face towards him, looking down at him carefully.
“I’m always worried about letting you go out. I’m either afraid you’ll bump into something or get captivated by the scenery outside the palace,” Xue Yi sighed softly. “...I really want to check everything inside and out.”
The candlelight flickered across their faces, and a powerful aura suddenly invaded. Lu Xuejin turned his head, his eyes reflecting Xue Yi's expression. Seeing the dangerous look in Xue Yi's eyes, the other's fingertips almost probed into his lips and teeth, the fingertips brushing against his lips and touching his teeth.
He looked at Xue Yi and said, "Brother, do as you wish."
“…” Xue Yi, “Is this true?”
“Of course,” Lu Xuejin said coldly, a hint of mockery flashing in her eyes, “Your Majesty may do as you wish.”
He used the title "Your Majesty," and the atmosphere around him changed. Xue Yi was different from ordinary people. When ordinary people were angry, their brows would furrow with hatred, but when Xue Yi got angry, his face would turn pale, and his hair would make his brows and eyes appear even darker, like a white-faced ghost, lifeless and gloomy.
"In that case... it's better for us to get to know each other better before we get married. Otherwise, if Changyou can't handle it, I'll have to worry about him."
A chill swept over Lu Xuejin, and the pressure on his jaw suddenly increased. A cold touch came over him as Xue Yi carefully stroked his cheek and whispered in his ear.
"I violate Changyou in my dreams every day. Will Changyou be angry?"
As soon as he finished speaking, he felt a sudden pain in the tip of his ear; Xue Yi had bitten it. He was usually calm, but Xue Yi was deliberately trying to provoke him. He called out "Xue Yi," and the wet touch on his ear tip felt unfamiliar and dark. The contact with Xue Yi's body made him feel as if he had been drenched in a rain.
"...Xue Yanli."
The word "separation" had barely left his lips when a shadow loomed over him, and his lips were immediately sealed. Xue Yi's breath enveloped him, like a serpentine coil, engulfing him and relentlessly spreading and eroding his very being. Their lips met, and he hadn't noticed before that Xue Yi had consumed a whole bowl of vinegar, now the vinegar mingled with the metallic taste of blood, drawing blood from his bitten lip.
He didn't struggle, his amber eyes reflecting Xue Yi's somber expression. Seeing this, Xue Yi became even more determined to arouse him, their relationship resembling a childhood game of chess where they would see who would win first. One remained unmoved, the other lost in thought.
A kiss landed on his neck, his fingertips pressing against the pearwood table and chairs, their lacquer gleaming. He was enveloped in a layer of dampness, the moisture growing thicker, making it almost impossible for him to breathe. He looked at the man, his entire body pressed against Xue Yi's. Xue Yi, usually reserved and polite, became frivolous the moment he touched him.
“…Changyou.” Xue Yi hugged him from behind, his voice low and hoarse, rubbing his teeth against the back of his neck, the last syllable brushing against his ear.
"Help me," Xue Yi whispered in his ear, holding him tightly and unwilling to let go. His previous domineering demeanor vanished, and he reverted to the sickly boy he once was, who would always beg him when faced with something he didn't want to do.
His lips were still numb. He closed his eyes briefly and said, "Get out."
A sticky sensation came from his fingertips, and Xue Yi's lips touched the side of his palm, gently rubbing against it. A thin blush rose on Xue Yi's pale cheeks, like a living paper doll, and a hint of brilliance emanated from the corners of his eyes due to the color of desire.
“…Changyou,” Xue Yi breathed heavily behind him, clinging to him like a beautiful ghost, her slender eyes reflecting his image. With each movement, he felt a warmth on her eyelashes.
The scent wafted over, and Lu Xuejin touched his eyelids as the white substance stained his cheek.
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